


Fuck or Run

by totallyrandom



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: College Student Stiles, Derek is dtf, Derek's Loft, Getting Together, M/M, Oblivious Stiles, Stiles doesn't know he's hot, fight or flight or fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 20:09:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4933627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallyrandom/pseuds/totallyrandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh my GOD, Derek. I’m like a live wire,” Stiles says. “I need … I don’t know … to do aerobics or run a marathon or FUCK someone through the mattress.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's my birthday. Here's a present.

“Oh my GOD, Derek. I’m like a live wire,” Stiles says. “I need … I don’t know … to do aerobics or run a marathon or FUCK someone through the mattress.” 

“Through?” 

“Yeah. … Not like with it between us. You know, like into the mattress. Like just really nail them. Just ram them good.”

“ … That’s ... graphic.” 

“Sorry, dude. I just have all this adrenaline left over after the fight, you know. What do you usually do?” 

“Heal.” 

“Oooooh. Riiiiiiight. Right, right, right. Sorry. But like when you’re not?” 

“ … Shift and run.” 

“Yeah. Yeah. Wish I could run. Wish I could ruuuuuun. But it’s bad enough when I can see. Now would be … Yeah, no.” 

Derek nods. 

“I need a treadmill or something.” 

“It’s one time.” 

“Yeah, ok. And where would I keep it anyway, right? Not in my dorm, that’s for sure.” He looks frantically around the loft, eying places it could go.

“You’re not keeping gym equipment you don’t need here.” 

“Wow, Derek. How generous you aren’t.” 

Derek sighs. “No space.” 

Stiles waves a hand toward the mostly empty loft. “Oh, clearly. What this loft is missing is definitely empty space.” 

Derek huffs. “Room for sparring.” 

“Sparring. Spaaaaaaaarring. Yes. Oh my god, YES! Teach me to fight. Right now. Right now, Derek!” 

“Worst idea.” 

“What?” 

“Worse than biting Jackson.”

“Funny. Also, fuck you.” 

Derek looks him up and down, raising an eyebrow. 

“Ha ha. Seriously, if I can’t fuck and I can’t run, I need to fiiiiiiiiight.”

“You usually fuck and run?” 

“Uhhhh ... pretty much? I mostly hook up with women at parties. The guys I go home with aren’t really the cuddling-and-pancakes-in-the-morning type.” 

“Omelettes.” 

“What?” 

“Omelettes. More protein, energy. Better for round 2. Omelettes. And toast and jam for a quick boost.” 

“Oooook. Thanks for the tip, dude. Anyway, can we put sparring back on the table? Cause I need that to happen, stat.” 

“Spar with Scott.” 

“Nah, pretty sure he’s fucking it out right now already.” 

“Still an option.” 

“Ha. _Rarely_ is that an option. For me. Not all of us are all … ” He waves his hand in a gesture encompassing Derek’s everything. 

“All what?” 

“You know! Built like the fucking statue of David!” 

“What.” 

Stiles googles it and walks over to shove the photo in Derek’s face. Too close.  Derek grabs his wrist and pushes it back to normal seeing distance.

“And?” 

“And don’t you see the resemblance, Derek?”

“So?” 

“Soooooooo, some of us can’t walk into a club or a bar or a grocery store or just down the street and have scores of people lining up to jump on our dick.” 

“That doesn’t happen.” 

“I know! That’s my point.” 

Derek blows out a breath and counts to 3 in his head. “That doesn’t happen to ME. That doesn’t happen to anyone outside porn.” 

“Ha ha.” 

“It doesn’t. … And not everyone wants someone like … ” He sweeps a hand down in front of his own body. 

“But … ? What … ? How is that possible? Like, I’m pretty sure everyone but asexual people and Kinsey-16 lesbians would be happy to pick up whatever you’re willing to throw down.”

“It’s 6. And you’re ridiculous.” 

“So’re your abs.” 

“What’s your obsession with my abs?” 

Stiles’s eyes go wide in disbelief and he just points in reply. Derek walks over and lifts Stiles’s shirt up to display his stomach. Stiles is too stunned to stop him. 

“Well?” Derek asks. 

Stiles points back and forth between them as though that’s an answer. Derek raises an eyebrow in response. 

“You cannot be this obtuse, dude.” 

“Me? … YOU!” He rips Stiles’s shirt completely off. 

“What the fuck, dude?!” Stiles grabs for the shirt. 

“Do you ever even look?” 

“What? At myself? No! Why? Why would I? No!” 

“Stiles,” he growls then takes a few calming breaths. “You’re not 16. You grew into your arms. Hands.” He skims his hands down them, the heat difference making Stiles shiver. “You have biceps. And pecs.” He traces them with a finger, making Stiles shiver for other reasons. “ABS.” He runs flat palms down them until his thumbs hit Stiles’s waistband. 

“Whoa,” Stiles breathes out quietly. “Ok. Ok. I’ll concede, um, the point. Thanks. Ok. Can I have my shirt back now?” 

“Why?” 

“So I can go home! I still need to deal with this ... situation. By myself, I guess.”

“You don’t have to go.” 

“Oh my god. Are you really going to make me say it? Fine! I’m going home to jack off.” 

“Don’t have to go.” 

“What ... in your bathroom and then we just fucking watch a movie or something?” 

“If you want.” 

“I told you what I WANT. I never get what I WANT.”

“You didn’t accept my offer. So do what you want.” 

“Offer. Offer?!”

“YOU gonna make ME say it?” 

“Yes! Definitely yes. Because I think we’re having different conversations? Like VERY different conversations. Or my Babel fish* stopped translating properly or I had a stroke and words aren’t processing right or … ” 

“Stiles.” He runs his hands up Stiles’s chest to grab him behind the neck with both hands. 

“ … Wha … ” 

“Stiles. Would you like one of us to fuck the other through the mattress? 

“ … Wha … ”

Derek drops his hands and steps back. “Ok. Movie then. Stay if you want.”

Stiles is in shock, and adrenaline is suddenly no longer a problem. He wilts onto the couch to watch the movie in silence, stealing glances at Derek every few minutes. “Are you still amped up?” 

“No. You?”

“Uh, no. Nooooooooooo. Just … confused.” 

“About?” 

“You ... Did that actually happen? Was that a real-life, outside my head, for-real real thing?” 

“You turning me down? Yes. After telling me everyone wants to fuck me? Also yes.”

“I ... But that was just adrenaline! You don’t want ... Obviously, you don’t ... Wouldn’t, otherwise. In other circumstances. Usually.” 

“That a statement or question?” 

“A statement to save myself the embarrassment of asking a stupidly obvious question that I would definitely not enjoy hearing the mortifying answer to.” 

“For a genius who sees everything and notices everything, you’re an idiot.” 

Stiles pouts. “I choose to accept that as a compliment.”

“Well that’s a step in the right direction, at least.” 

“What direction is that, then?” he asks, stubbornly.

Derek crawls over the empty space between them and says, very close, “The one toward my bed.” 

Stiles gasps. “No, um, adrenaline?” 

“No.” 

“Ohmygod. Oh my GOD. You’re ... too much ... I can’t take ... compliments and ... WHAT is happening???” 

“Nothing, if you don’t want.” 

“Ohmygod. Oh my GOD, Derek … the things I want. There are SO many things I want. I don’t even know where to start!” 

“Let’s start here.” Derek tugs him down to lie flat on the couch and then slides on top of him, providing some much-desired friction, but not enough, not nearly enough. Stiles nips him on the ear and then growls a litany of ways he wants to fuck. Places he wants to fuck. Derek grinds against him and says yes to every one. It’s the suggestion of “in a replica of the Milennium Falcon” that breaks the mood and makes Derek laugh so hard they almost roll off the couch. The happy look on Derek’s face does it for Stiles. He bites down hard on Derek’s shoulder, bringing Derek with him over the edge. Derek sighs and collapses haphazardly on his chest. 

The next morning when Scott arrives, he takes one step into the loft--catching a glimpse of Derek’s bare ass as he makes Stiles coffee--before running back out with a slam of the door that wakes Stiles up. 

“Mmmmm. I smell coffeeeee. Yes, give me coffee and eggs and toast. Then we do the next thing on the list!” Derek almost drops his only mug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit. I kind of wrote a sex scene? Or, at least, probably as close as I'll ever get?
> 
> Also, I'm ridiculous and added a chapter with images of the new mugs Stiles buys for Derek's loft.
> 
> * The Babel fish, from _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_ , is a universal translator. It's kind of icky, so [read about it at your own risk](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_races_and_species_in_The_Hitchhiker%27s_Guide_to_the_Galaxy#Babel_fish).


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles slowly adds mugs for each pack member to Derek's collection.

Derek's old mug:

 

For Derek:

 

Erica gets this one for Stiles:

 

For Erica:

 

For Scott:

 

For Allison:

 

For Isaac:

 

For Boyd:

 

For Lydia:

 

For Peter:


End file.
